


hats for unicorns

by goatbutt



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF, Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Band, Multi, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 12:51:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goatbutt/pseuds/goatbutt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>nick, niall, zayn and taylor are in a band together (called hats for unicorns)</p><p>edit: it now includes the end! ao3 cut it off, sorry :(</p>
            </blockquote>





	hats for unicorns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tamzinrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamzinrose/gifts), [Saralisse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saralisse/gifts).



> i just want to say a massive thank you to t and p (you know who you are) for generally making me want to write this and for cheerleading me bigtime ♥u♥ this is for you!!
> 
> it's also for the "road trip" square on my trope bingo huzzah for getting things done

there are generally two different reactions that they get once they tell someone what the name of their band is.

there’s the better reaction, the one where the name _hats for unicorns_ will get them a smile and a laugh and maybe a comment like, “i wish i’d thought of that, that’s brilliant.”

(and zayn will preen and smile smugly and say “yes well, you didn’t”, even though he was the only opposing vote when they came up with it)

or

their possible future employer will freeze, for a second, and then just stiffly nod. “right...” they’ll say, suddenly closed off and unwilling to hear any more. “we’ll keep your contact details. if there’s an opening, we’ll try and slot you in.”

there never does seem to be an opening for those places, but they’re usually told “don’t call us, we’ll call you!” just as the door to the interview room is closing, so they never really expect one.

-

they’re all in position on the stage and they stand under the crappy red-filter lights and look out. the pub is still empty, apart from the bored looking employees. it’s a small pub, but they expected at least some sort of audience.

nick picks at his bass, wandering near the edge of the stage. “what are we getting paid for this?” he asks, frowning when his shoes stick to a stain on the floor.

taylor shrugs, and looks over to zayn. he grimaces, just a bit, before answering, but enough that they know what the answer is going to be. “free drinks?” he finally replies, sounding nervous.

before nick can gripe about how his rent will not be paid by free drinks, niall plays one of those _ba dum dum tss_ beats on his drumset, like a punchline.

they all turn to him and he grins up at them, looking proud of himself. nick stares at him blankly, but he thinks that zayn and taylor are maybe emitting _what the fuck_ vibes with the power of their expressions.

niall laughs a bit. “our actual lives,” he explains. “that was the joke.”

taylor pivots on her heel, the bottom of her skirt flaring out as she turns. “very funny,” she snarks dryly, pretending to fix the microphone stand.

nick suddenly remembers why he loves them both so much and why he stayed with this stupid band. he’s glad, because there have been a lot of awful “what if” thoughts about the invitation to join harry and liam’s radio show that he turned down.

“you can never have too much free drink,” he sighs, determined to see the positive side of this.

“i don’t know mate. it might be nice if we could buy our own drinks,” niall says, twirling a drumstick around in his fingers.

“hear hear!” zayn lazily calls, shrugging off his guitar and leaving it on the stage. he jumps off, and turns to offer his hand for taylor. “coming?” he asks her, sounding as if he might be trying for innocent.

she nods, slipping off the stage without taking his hand. he rolls his eyes and drags her towards the toilet. niall and nick watch them leave, rolling their eyes at how they very obviously hold hands.

“i’ve got a feeling this will be our night,” niall announces confidently, once taylor and zayn have vanished behind a stained door. nick wanders over the stage to where the drumset is sitting and flicks a cymbal.

“you say that before every gig,” he reminds niall. “every single one.”

niall giggles. “have i ever been wrong?” he asks, almost defiantly.

“i think you are maybe forgetting the dark days,” nick smirks. “when taylor kept falling on stage. and those times she actually fell off it. i think you are maybe forgetting this because you used to drink for stagefright.”

“i’ll give you that grimmy,” niall concedes, still smiling. his smile might be nick’s favourite thing about him. he leans over the drumset and kisses niall on the forehead.

“you’ll give it to me because i’m right, you mean,” he murmurs. niall grumbles what could possibly be a yes under his breath, but what is more likely a curse.

-

the gig’s good, by their standards. great, even. the crowd that eventually gathers in the tiny little pub is quite receptive, and nick will swear that he saw some of them sing along to some of the songs. taylor and zayn are wonderful; flirting their way through the set and niall has a huge smile on his face the entire time.

they were made for nights like this. the stage. music. it’s the rush that nick gets as soon as they start to play that reminds him that he really believes this band will go somewhere.

after the show, the bartender takes their orders. while they are waiting, zayn leans casually against the bar.

“good show,” he says calmly, like he isn’t buzzing as much as the rest of them are. their stuff still all has to be packed away into the van, but niall operates under a strict _drinks first_ rule that none of them dare argue with.

their drinks are brought over, and the bartender wanders off before they can thank him. taylor shrugs and sips at her pint. “we should tour,” she decides. “let’s not just play shitty pubs in london. let’s play shitty clubs all over england!”

they toast their glasses and take a drink each and that’s that, then. hats for unicorns on their first tour of england.

“how exactly do we go about this?” zayn asks, as he’s helping to load niall’s drums into the van. niall seems about to speak, so he clarifies. “the tour, i mean.” there was an idea put forward of having an actual unicorn (a shetland pony with a pretend horn) onstage with them at all times, to “up the experience”, or something.

“book gigs!” taylor explains from beside zayn, like it’ll be the easiest thing in the world to do. zayn frowns, and gives the drums an extra push.

“what if we can’t book any?” he asks, sighing in relief when niall finally gets the drumkit properly into the van.

“we will,” niall comforts him, hopping out of the band. “and if not, we’re fucked.”

“we could always do a busking tour,” nick puts forward. he’s still got his bass slung around his back. “i reckon one of them could be good fun.”

taylor gives nick a quick peck on the chin. “that’s the spirit!” she smiles. “we’ll be playing proper gigs for proper money in no time, boys.”

zayn looks around them at the beer bottles all over the alley. he thinks one of them is maybe full of piss. he wouldn’t be surprised if it was. sometimes, he feels like he is the only one who remembers that this band has limitations, and that they are in all honesty, pretty shit.

-

“we’ve got hats for unicorns!” harry announces, almost as soon as they are on air.

nick smiles from where he is sitting beside harry, feeling very proud of himself for somehow managing to get harry and liam to agree to having the band on their show. he knows that harry and liam usually deal in the small acts, but they are miniscule.

“so,” harry says, watching him even as he leans toward the microphone, just a little. “why did you beg me to be on the show, hats for unicorns?”

“i’ve just been missing you two,” says nick, batting his eyelashes. “and we’re maybe trying to pull together a tour. maybe.”

harry and liam highfive, grinning. “our first exclusive!” liam crows, shaking his head.

“and it’s _shit,_ ” harry laughs, “sorry guys.”

“oi!” nick shouts, right into the microphone. harry slaps him up the head, and yelps when nick slaps him back, looking wounded and shocked that nick would do such a thing.

there’s a lot of shouting and laughing, and neither liam nor harry play a song. they manage to destroy the radio studio every single time they are invited in, almost like a tradition. it’s shocking that harry keeps letting members of the band back, when he knows what’s waiting for him.

taylor has somehow managed to climb onto liam’s knee, and she has complete control of his microphone. “if you want hats for unicorns to play for you at your birthday or club or pub or whatever, please send us an email to hatsforunicorns - all lowercase, all one word - at hotmail!”

liam rolls his eyes and cuts off to a song. “i hope you get a lot of creeps emailing you,” he vows, and pushes her off his knee.

he frowns when he looks over to nick and harry. it’s hard to tell, but from this angle, it looks like they could be kissing. when liam clears his throat, they pull back, blushing and flushed.

“sorry,” says harry, but he can’t stop himself from smiling. it ruins the effect a bit. “but you can’t be mad. you had that thing with niall and then that thing with zayn and maybe a thing with taylor? so. it’s like we’re even, maybe.”

“we’re a friendly band,” nick adds, solemnly. a lovebite is beginning to form just under his jawbone. “we never had any friends as kids.”

liam’s still looking at him funny, like he maybe doesn’t trust nick. “yeah?” he asks, not sounding as angry as they expected. “i’ll be sure to mention that in your interview, then.”

“you better take this interview seriously,” taylor warns him. “we have fans listening, liam payne.”

he shakes his head. “your mum probably isn’t listening taylor,” he says, with mock pity.

she sniffs at him. “yours is,” she says. “and that song is about to end.”

“if we actually manage to get ourselves gigs anywhere on this godforsaken tour, let alone be better off because of it, i’ll dye my hair pink,” nick says cheerfully, when harry asks him what his expectations for the tour are. 

“...that’s a good start,” liam smiles, almost encouragingly. 

-

they buy a secondhand van, in preparation for the big tour, and have to sell their old one for scrap metal. the new van doesn’t smell as bad or as much, but it doesn’t smell like them, either. the first drive they take is to test it out, and to maybe get dinner from mcdonalds.

“we need to think of a schedule,” taylor says, flicking through the radio. “but i would like to get out of london as soon as possible. this roadtrip is going to go down in history. i can feel it.”

“i can feel niall’s foot in my side,” zayn deadpans. “it might go down in history in the bad way.”

“nah,” nick says, easily. “we’ll be fine. who wouldn’t love our natural charm and talent?”

“and good looks!” niall adds, winking. “us two pull in the fans, grimmy.”

“well obviously niall,” nick agrees, pulling into the drive thru. “i just didn’t want to hurt their feelings. but it’s all in the open now, and we are better people for it.”

niall pats zayn on the shoulder, in a consoling way. “do you want to share my chicken nuggets?” he asks.

“fuck off,” zayn sighs, looking out of the window at the menu. 

“oh good. i was hoping you wouldn’t take me up on that offer,” niall grins. 

-

on the first official tour gig, when they’re still in london, taylor wears her new cat ear headband. 

“what is that?” zayn asks, when he first sees it. 

she sticks her tongue out at him. “niall bought it, just for me. he said it reminded him of me, when he saw it. i’m thinking we have an animal theme.”

“i’m sorry!” niall calls over from where he and nick are eating crisps. “she’s already talking about facepaint!” nick just laughs.

“i’m thinking you’d be a tiger,” taylor starts to tell zayn, but he walks away from her. she shouts after him, something about the stripe in his hair.

“no!” he shouts back. “never.” 

-

on their third official tour gig, still in the same pub in london, they all dress up like animals. zayn is a tiger, and he keeps trying to wash off the eyeliner whiskers in the bathroom. 

“you look fine,” taylor soothes him. “great, even. fierce.” 

“i look like an idiot,” he grumbles. “christ, taylor. how did you talk me into this?” 

niall is a rabbit and nick is a dog. maybe. they are very loose interpretations of the animals, but they insist that it is the _spirit_ that counts. 

“never again,” zayn vows when they are in the van. “never again. it was awful. promise me never again, taylor swift.” 

taylor shrugs. it was a pretty good gig, actually. a couple of people really liked the animal theme and zayn was a little bit tense, but he still played well. niall and nick were both wonderful, even if nick spent most of his time at the back of the stage, standing by the drumset. 

“we had to leave london with a bang!” niall announces, from the front of the van. they got paid in money for the past three gigs, and they are all very giddy about it. “what better way than suddenly being animals!”

“it can be our thing,” nick agrees, sounding fond. 

-

their schedule for the tour is very vague. they have booked a gig on the outside of london for the first evening, and then there’s nothing, but they’re thinking of heading to kent. the emails weren’t very promising, but someone did invite them to play at their birthday party for all the food they could eat, which is an offer they may consider. 

“is everything packed?” taylor asks nick, when he pushes all their luggage into the back. “are we sure that we have _everything?_ ”

nick stretches, and rubs at where the muscles twinge in his back. “it feels like it,” he winces. “put it that way.” 

niall’s eyes widen. “i don’t know if i’ve remembered underwear!” he worries, biting at his bottom lip. “oh god. what if i haven’t?” 

nick spies niall’s bag, underneath zayn’s and his own, and sighs. “you can check for yourself,” he says. “i need a break.” 

he texts harry. _getting ready to set off! wish us luck x_

harry texts him back, almost immediately. _you’ve got a small internet following. get a twitter account. maybe a youtube one. the animal thing was cute. good luck. you guys will kill it! x_

“stop texting your illicit lover,” zayn teases, bumping his shoulder with nick’s. “i can feel niall’s jealousy from here.” 

“he’s searching his bag to make sure he packed underwear,” nick points out.

zayn shrugs. “maybe he’s not the jealous one, then.” 

-

when nick finally tells them about harry’s advice, they all seem to think it’s a good idea. 

“we could do a tour diary,” niall suggests, looking out of the window. “hats for unicorns tour the country and possibly become homeless during the search for fame. magic stuff.” 

“yes, we will play for you if you pay us in food,” nick smiles, using the dramatic voice he likes to affect in interviews, sometimes. 

“we should do covers,” taylor suggests. “and then post them to youtube. if people find a song they know, and like us, they’ll watch the videos of our own shows. right?”

“makes sense,” zayn decides. “shit. when did we accidentally become a real band?” 

“no clue,” niall laughs. “but i think i like it.” 

their first tweet is _”when did we accidentally become a real band” - zayn malik._ they leave it at that, and after nick texts harry, he’s their first follower. 

“how blessed i feel,” taylor pretend-swoons. “the actual harry styles, our very first follower.” 

they stop to have dinner at a picnic site. the bench is kind of wet, and there is still the rubbish from whatever family had used it last, so they sit on the kerb and play _what colour is the next car going to be._

“silver.” niall says. “by the way, taylor and zayn, are you like, exclusive now?” 

“black.” zayn guesses. “i dunno. taylor?” 

“red. i don’t know either. do you want to be?” zayn shrugs and looks at niall and nick. “i like all you boys,” taylor allows, sweetly, and then curses when a silver car drives past. 

“white,” nick tries. “do you like us enough to not mind us and zayn maybe kissing sometimes?” 

taylor bites her sandwich. they let her have time to figure this out, because they’ve always said that whatever they all have comes before the band. 

“i think i do,” she finally decides. “as long as you boys like me enough to do the same to me.”

“oh always,” niall gushes, stealing a crisp from zayn. “also, blue.” 

-

they announce their brand new twitter at their first non-london city gig. it goes pretty badly in all honesty, but they still get like four followers. there’s a quiet sense of _this is what we could do forever_ growing in the back of their minds, and they are starting to get really serious about hats for unicorns. 

they sit in a circle on the stage after the show has ended, their knees touching. niall has still got his drum sticks, and he’s tapping out a beat on nick’s leg. 

“we have to make a pact,” zayn says. “to be as serious as we can. we have to give this one hundred percent. this is real now.”

“if this is your version of a pep talk, it’s not very good,” nick frowns. “we know we can do better than we did tonight. don’t we?”

niall and taylor both nod. nick thinks they maybe both blame themselves for the band not really doing that well, but it’s neither of their faults. he was off time and nervous. they all were. he knows they’ll get better at this. 

“we can do it,” taylor murmurs. “hats for unicorns on three!” she stretches her hand out into the middle of the circle, and niall slaps his on the top. 

“c’mon lads,” he coaxes. “on three.” 

they count themselves in. some of the men at the bar look at them oddly, but they don’t really care. they have each other and their music and their band. it’s all they need, at the minute. 

“time to pack the van,” taylor yawns. “are we sleeping in it tonight?”

“obviously. we’ve got to be a proper band and that,” nick rules. 

-

sleeping in the van is a thing that doesn’t really happen. taylor has a packet of sharpies with her, and she lets zayn give her a tattoo. it’s a unicorn wearing a hat, obviously. she wanted a beret, but he overruled and settled on a top hat. 

“we should all have these done,” she muses, twisting her arm up to look at it. “as a band thing.” 

“like a brand,” nick says. he’s squished himself into the back seats, claiming he cannot possibly do all of the driving, or they will all die. he looks like he’s uncomfortable, but also unwilling or unable to move and do anything about it. 

niall is driving and guarding his cup of coffee very carefully. he’s got the radio on and he’s dancing a bit to it, sort of shuffling about in his seat.

“where are we going?” he asks, after driving for about twenty minutes. “shall we just drive to the next town and beg for work?”

“we’d probably get charity donations. people will see us and pity us and throw a couple of pound in our general direction.” zayn mumbles. he sounds mostly-asleep. taylor has clambered into the front seat, leaving zayn the whole middle to lie across, even though they’ve all seen him possibly sleep standing up. 

taylor kicks her feet up on the dashboard and yawns. “get to the next town. we’ll think about plans then. maybe sleep at some point. stop driving before you get to that last part, please.” 

“tally ho!” nick shouts, but it’s muffled, like he’s lying with his face planted in the seat. 

-

taylor manages to sweet talk one of the bartenders in the next bar. zayn stands beside her, looking grumpy and maybe a little bit jealous when taylor laughs at his stupid jokes. when he leaves to talk to his boss, zayn rolls his eyes. 

“what a twat,” he mumbles. “those weren’t even funny jokes.” 

“not even a little bit funny,” taylor grins. “but he didn’t look too bad, i suppose.” 

“fuck off and let’s hope he at least has enough pull around here to get us a job.” 

when the man comes back, he’s smiling widely and he leans right over the bar to talk to them, a lustful look in his eyes. 

“you’re in luck,” he says. “the band we’d booked had to pull out because they got food poisoning or summat. we’ll work out how much you’ll earn when you get back tonight.” 

“thanks,” zayn mutters, reaching down to hold taylor’s hand. 

the man winks at him. “anytime, love.” 

taylor coughs to hide her laughter, and waves back as she’s walking out. niall and nick are sitting on the bonnet of their van, sharing a bottle of sprite. 

“well?” niall asks. “how’d it go?” 

“we got the gig!” taylor squeals. “for real money! zayn’s face really charmed the barman,” she adds, fluttering her eyelashes across at him. 

zayn rolls his eyes as he lights a cigarette. “fuck off,” he says, the cigarette still held between his teeth. 

“niall and i saw four dogs,” nick announces happily, breaking the semi-awkward silence. 

-

the tour begins to string itself together, and they begin to book gigs before they even get to the towns. niall and taylor even write a new song for the band, fondly named pug off (the pug song) when they’re travelling. 

“harry styles!” nick shouts into the phone, trying to be heard over “your legs are kinda tiny and you’re pretty fucking smelly but i love you”. “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

harry hums. “i miss you a little bit.” 

“awwh, i miss you too. let me tell you, styles, no van would be big enough for me not to be tired and grumpy on this tour.”

“any updates for our listeners? we’ve actually had a few people ask about you.”

“tell them to follow our twitter,” nick says. “and that we’ll start posting youtube videos soon, i promise.”

“will do!” harry chirps. “how’s it going?” 

“we’re taking a break to go to the beach tomorrow,” nick grins. “i can’t wait.” 

“push niall under the water for me please.”

“leave that with me, styles.” he holds out the phone to out to the rest of them and turns on the speaker. “anything to say to hats for unicorns?” 

“i love you guys!” harry squeals. “except for that bass player. he’s a bit of a joke.” 

“nick’s a placeholder,” zayn quips. “just until we find somebody prettier.” 

nick shakes his head. “i have a feeling i’ll be here for a while,” he sighs. 

-

at the beach, zayn and taylor act all couple-y. they walk along the dunes holding hands and they share an ice-cream cone (mostly because they only have enough change for one and they don’t really want to break their fiver). 

nick and niall don’t really mind about breaking a fiver that much. they get an ice-cream with sprinkles each and sit side by side. once he’s finished his ice-cream, niall lies shirtless on the sand and closes his eyes. 

“i feel like i should be bathing you in suncream,” nick admits, looking at niall’s pale stomach. “what if you begin to bake or something?” 

“i’ll be fine,” niall laughs. “worrywart.” 

“that sounds disgusting.” 

niall opens one of his eyes and squints up at nick. “i think that’s kind of the point.” 

“mm,” nick agrees, throwing the last piece of cone into his mouth. “coming for a swim?”

“not on a full stomach, grimshaw.”

nick rolls his eyes. “we’re hardly going to do laps. want to come and stand in the water and complain about how cold it is?” 

“can we also complain about jellyfish?” niall asks, smiling a little.

“oh, of course,” nick says, pulling niall to his feet. “those fuckers are sneaky, but i promise to piss on you if they outwit you, nialler.” 

niall swoons into nick’s arms. “my hero,” he gushes. 

“i do my best,” nick grins.

the water is very grey and cold and _mysterious_. niall calls it that, when they’re eyeing it and wondering what the plan of action is. they decide on the age old run-in-run-out-again method and eventually force themselves to stand in the freezing water.

taylor wanders down to them, standing just out of reach of the waves. “what are you too idiots doing?” she calls, watching nick fall and niall laugh.

“we’re jumping waves!” niall calls back. “or trying to!” 

nick pulls him under by his ankle. niall shrieks and stumbles into the water. 

“that was for harry styles!” nick roars, when he emerges from the water and stands, the waves only coming up to his thighs. 

“we’ll be in the van!” taylor shouts, and leaves them to it. 

-

they’ve started to get a steady twitter following. they’re being retweeted and favourited, and even mentioned in people’s follow fridays. 

they tweet pictures of each other sleeping in the van and zayn tweets photos of his unicorn nail art and eventually replies to people asking how he did it with “natural talent”. 

they can tell when harry and liam have mentioned them. there’s usually a couple dozen tweets along the lines of _@hatsforunicorns were just mentioned on the radio again!_ and an obvious increase in their new followers for a while. 

sometimes, they’ll be in a bar and people will look like they maybe know them, or could maybe want to know them. audiences start to become more interested in them and their stories. they begin to get better on stage. 

it’s the things like this that they’re still excited for. it’s maybe not what they’re in it for completely, but it helps. 

-

on the gig after their beach trip, taylor beings up the animal thing. they’ve got a gig in what they think is a coffee shop and she thinks maybe this is the best time to try it again. 

“no,” zayn says, before she can even properly begin to make her case. “i said never again. no. you promised me, taylor.” 

“i didn’t really promise,” she hedges. “you can wear my ears, if you’d like?” 

“what the fuck would make you think i’d like that?” 

she shrugs, seeming small. “i thought maybe you’d have seen the error of your ways. or the perks of no face paint.” 

he sighs. nick and niall are giving him puppy-dog eyes from the front of the van. 

“can you please focus on the road?” he snaps at nick, who seems very offended about the fact that zayn expects him not to kill them all. 

“please zayn?” niall pouts. “we killed it the last time we dressed up like animals. you know we did.”

“that had very little to do with the fact we were dressed up like animals, nialler.” 

taylor sighs, very dramatically. “we’ll never know, will we? please zayn. just once more.” 

“you owe me,” zayn grumbles. “big time. and i’m taking the ears. and i’m not wearing facepaint.” 

niall and nick high-five in the front seat. taylor pulls zayn into a hug. “i’m tweeting about this!” she grins. “there will be pictures!” 

-

 

zayn is sitting on the edge of the small stage, waiting for niall and nick to stop taking pictures of each other to send to harry and everyone else they know and for taylor to be finished getting ready. she’s the tiger this time, and she is taking it very seriously. 

“very cute!” a guy calls from where he’s sipping coffee. zayn gives him the middle finger and glares. the guy is not very intimidating looking, but he seems like a cheeky fucker. 

“i meant that, you know,” the guy pouts. “look at your little ears! precious.”

taylor finally emerges on stage, her face paint perfectly done. “we are hats for unicorns!” she announces into the microphone. nick and niall scramble onto the stage and zayn stands up. the cheeky fucker actually cheers. 

“this first song is a very special one,” taylor continues. “close to our hearts and based on a very personal event. it’s called there’s a mouse in my pants!” 

cheeky fucker leans back in his seat and sips his coffee. zayn keeps his eyes on him the whole time, trying to forget about the fucking ears he’s wearing. 

when the show is ever, taylor hops off the stage to go and order coffee. nick and niall wander to zayn’s side and sit on the ground beside him. he sets his guitar to the side and sits down as well, taking off taylor’s cat ear hairband. 

cheeky fucker walks right up to the edge of their stage and smiles at zayn. “i seriously really did like you guys a lot,” he admits. 

zayn scoffs. “we’re _adorable,_ aren’t we?” 

nick and niall are paying attention to zayn’s showdown with the cheeky fucker. even taylor is looking interested, from way over by the counter where she’s waiting for her coffee and niall’s hot chocolate. 

cheeky fucker grins, sort of shyly. “very,” he says, all bashful, but then he brightens up. “you guys should let me be your official video maker!” 

zayn glares quickly to niall and nick and shakes his head. “yeah, that’d be good,” he says. “just take a cheeky fucker we don’t know anything about on tour in a van with us. grand idea.” 

“i’m louis tomlinson,” cheeky fucker louis tomlinson says, with his biggest and brightest grin yet. “please to meet you.” 

“knowing your name doesn’t change anything, you twat,” zayn sighs. “no. we can’t even afford a video maker. sorry.” 

nick leans forward. zayn closes his eyes and sighs, sort of in preparation. “come for a drink with us later though, yeah?” 

louis winks at him. “oh, anytime, doll.”

-

“what’s difficult about living in a van,” taylor grumbles as she tries to pull on a dress. “is getting ready in it.”

“i feel more professional bands may have a stronger plan for it,” nick points out. “or maybe not professional bands, but ones with a lower idiot count than this one.”

niall laughs, and throws a shoe at nick. “less band-hate, grimmy.” 

“i don’t even want to go get drinks with the twat,” zayn pouts. he’s been doing a lot of pouting. 

“give him a chance,” taylor warns. “what if he offers to work for free? or cheap?” 

“or alcohol?” niall asks. 

“we don’t know anything about him! we are not taking in someone who wants to video us for free. that is asking for trouble. that would be stupid even for us.” 

“zip up my dress?” taylor asks him. “zayn, let’s be realistic. it’d be pretty hard for him to murder all four of us, and we literally have nothing to steal. he’d take it and give it back.”

“especially if it was niall’s socks,” nick butts in, smugly. 

“or grimmy,” niall snarks.

“fine! i will go and have drinks with you and this bloody cheeky fucker. i am not buying one drink but fuck you if you think i won’t drink any.” 

“you can join nick and i in drink bingo,” niall offers, kindly. “i’m bringing my good-luck red pen, so it’ll be great.”

“that’s a standing offer, an’ all,” nick adds. 

“great craic,” niall nods. 

-

“so what are you lads drinking?” louis asks, as soon as they walk up to the bar. “and the lady, of course.” 

taylor winks and sits right beside him. “i’ll have a pint if you’re buying,” she says, just to see his face. he looks impressed. “i’m lying,” she admits. “gimmie a vodka and coke.” 

he raises his eyebrow. 

“please,” she adds, sweetly. 

he nods, and looks over her shoulder to nick and niall. “boys?” 

“shots!” nick cheers. “jägermeister, please. we’re playing drink bingo.” 

“and you?” louis asks zayn, looking at him through his eyelashes. 

“vodka and coke,” he manages to grit out through his teeth. the look on his face is enough that louis doesn’t even try and get a please. 

“have a drink when someone uses an awful pick-up line on zayn,” niall suggests, once they’ve got their drinks and moved down to a table. zayn rolls his eyes at them, but lets it go without saying anything. they’ve got a napkin in front of them, where niall’s drawn out a rough bingo square. 

“so can i take this to mean that you guys are at least thinking about letting me work for you?” louis asks brightly, looking from zayn to taylor. 

“have another if someone starts to cry,” nick says to niall, who writes in it beside _awful pick-up line on z._

“we might be,” taylor hedges, sounding very teasing and fond of louis. louis grins, sitting up straighter. 

“i’d do like, your music videos and things like that. video diaries? i reckon you’d all be great in one of those.” 

“we live in a van and we can’t pay you in actual money,” zayn supplies, deadpan. 

“oh! we should have a square for someone who tries to dance gangnam style,” nick decides, and niall scribbles it down. 

“i really don’t mind,” louis admits, looking cheeky again. “it’s better than staying here.” 

“i can imagine,” taylor nods sympathetically, leaning over to pat his hand. 

“if i’m honest, my plan is to get you all drunk and then you’ll agree to anything.” 

nick snorts. “does that count as an awful pick up line?”

-

when zayn wakes up, they’re already driving. nick and niall are sleeping in the back, and possibly sharing the earphones to nick’s ipod, and taylor is up front, talking to louis. 

“christ,” zayn groans, rubbing at his head. “when did we agree to let him come?” 

“last night,” taylor tells him, as she indicates to turn down what looks to zayn like a very bumpy and possibly deserted road. “he got his stuff this morning, while you were still unconscious.” 

“asleep,” he corrects, sitting up. he only has one shoe on, and he doesn’t think it’s his. “where are we going?” 

“surprise,” taylor smirks, in the way that means either she doesn’t know or she doesn’t want zayn to know before it’s too late. 

“well pull over for a minute,” he says. “i need to piss.” 

when she finally stops, he stumbles out of the van. nick and niall get out too, but they just stretch a lot and sigh overdramatically. 

“where are we going?” zayn asks niall, making sure taylor is distracted talking to their newest member, who seems to be telling a story about getting drunk when he was younger and pissing on people. 

niall shrugs. “haven’t a clue, mate. nick and i hope it’s somewhere we can buy fish and chips for lunch.” 

“mmm. crisps and sandwiches _do_ get very boring very quickly,” zayn yawns. 

“boys! we have a schedule to make here!” taylor shouts from the van, sort of leaning out the window. 

“bullshit!” nick calls back, but they make their way back into the van and cramp themselves in. 

“we don’t even have a gig today,” zayn complains, settling back down to sleep. “stop hassling us, swift.” 

taylor hums you look like a cat person under her breath and taps the steering wheel with her fingers. “we maybe have a gig today.” 

-

she takes them to a sunny little park and won’t tell them anything until they make it to a gazebo with a drum case bolted to the ground. zayn and nick both have their guitars and niall and louis had carried the amps while taylor handled all the microphones. 

there’s a line of sockets in the floor of the gazebo and taylor bounds up the steps and turns to look down at them, smiling proudly. 

“i didn’t actually mean we should play a busking gig!” nick laughs. “christ, taylor!” 

“what’s better than playing in the park?” she asks. “nothing! and louis will film, and we’ll maybe have a youtube video.” 

“and we can go and eat fish and chips when taylor and zayn do couple-y shit and louis...” niall trails off, looking at louis. “...does whatever.” 

“louis could tag along with taylor and zayn?” louis asks, hopefully. 

“can we just play?” zayn sighs. “look. there’s a woman walking a pug. let’s sing her pug off.” 

taylor takes her hat off and leaves it on the ground, looking at it hopefully before loudly and obviously dedicating pug off to “the wonderful woman walking that adorably stupid dog - yes you pug lady!” 

“we were hats for unicorns!” niall shouts, once they’ve played pug off, you look like a cat person and things i shouldn’t have eaten. “thank you! we’ll be back when we can be bothered!” 

taylor walks down the stairs and lifts her hat. “we’ve got six fifty in here,” she grins. “oh, wait. six twenty and thirty cents.” 

“chips?” niall asks, hopefully. 

“chips,” she smiles. “you and nick take your time, nialler. zayn and i are going to go for a walk.” 

“to have sex,” he corrects.

“yes. zayn and i are going to have sex. louis is going to stay here and phone people. presumably his mum, to inform her he is now a quasi-member of a band who happily sing songs about cat people and green-ish pizza.” 

“twat,” zayn says glumly, as he walks up to hold taylor’s hand. he’s got his guitar around his back, but they’ve left louis with the amps and the microphones. 

-

nick and niall eat their chips sitting outside tescos, watching a mother try and wrestle three children in through the doors. once she finally disappears, niall looks at nick and bursts out laughing. 

“how rude, horan!” nick scolds, holding back his own laughter. “she was doing her best.” 

niall steals one of nick’s pieces of scampi and stuffs it in his mouth, still laughing. “it’s not that,” he says. “i just imagined us with kids.” 

“jesus, horan.” 

niall laughs again. “i feel we’d either be super bad parents or super good ones.” 

nick chews on a chip, thoughtfully. “we live in a van,” he points out. 

niall’s laughter dies down. “oh yeah,” he says, sadly. “maybe not kids then.”

“no, maybe not.”

niall hums, sadly. 

“i saw adoption kennels while we were on our mission for chips,” nick offers. “want to go look at puppies?” 

“obviously!” niall grins. “but let me finish my chips first.” 

“oh i wouldn’t dream of you having to miss out on your chips,” nick mocks.

-

louis looks up to see nick and niall strolling back to the gazebo, swinging their hands together and walking really slowly. 

“they’re here,” he says to taylor, who is sitting on the railing, and zayn, who he thinks is sleeping. 

“finally,” taylor says, hopping off the railing. “how long does it take them to eat chips and probably sneak-fuck?” 

“long enough,” zayn mumbles, and then yawns. louis called that one.

“hurry up you dicks!” taylor shouts. “there are more people around now!”

“hold your horses!” nick calls back. “we’re being fucking romantic!” 

when niall and nick finally make it to the gazebo, they look at everyone in turn. “we’ve been thinking,” nick starts, solemnly. niall giggles. “we have something to tell you guys. it’s maybe going to be a big shock.” 

“are you getting married?” zayn asks, looking skeptical, but like he wouldn’t put it past them.

“divorced?” taylor laughs. 

niall laughs and gives her the middle finger. she winks. niall laughs again. 

nick takes a deep breath. “nialler and i are going to get a puppy. it’s going to live with us in the van. we’ve already met him. he’s wonderful. love at first sight.” 

“what sane person would give a dog to people who live in a van? no fucking way,” zayn states, and walks over to his guitar. 

nick straightens his bass. “i don’t even know why you try and argue band decisions anymore, zayn. history has proven it never works.”

niall grins. “anyway, we’re on the return journey. heading home, baby.”

“is he cute?” louis asks. 

“the fucking cutest,” niall gushes. “i’m going to write a song about him and his tiny little legs.” 

-

anakin is a menace in the van, scrambling around to press his nose against the windows. he leaves hairs everywhere and manages to make a bed out of taylor’s opened suitcase. 

“i can’t believe the kennels let you have him,” zayn mentions, once or twice or a total of eight times in the first twenty four hours. “it’s probably illegal.” 

“we mightn’t have told the one hundred percent truth, but we didn’t really lie, either. we said we were going home after a trip and we fell in love with him.” nick says, bopping anakin’s nose with his finger so that the puppy shakes it’s head and sneezes. 

“which we did,” niall adds brightly. “and he’s fine. look at him. king of the van!” 

louis films him a lot, and is in charge of walking him while hats for unicorns are playing gigs. nick is still primary caregiver, and when he’s not driving late, he tells anakin bedtime stories that usually end up in the dog hero finding a never-ending supply of bacon. 

after the stories are finished, anakin sighs a little sadly and curls up to sleep. 

“i know,” niall tells the puppy. “i wish it could be real life too.” 

-

they’re pretty booked in for the last month of touring. it’s late august, so there’s a lot of school kids out making the most of their last few weeks of freedom. 

zayn walks out of one of the back of the pubs and sees louis sitting on a bin. anakin is lying on the ground, his nose resting on his stubby little front paws. 

“louis,” he nods, standing by the bin. “anni.” 

“y’alright zayn?” louis smiles. “i’m thinking about teaching him to answer to darth vader? what do you think?” 

zayn shrugs, and takes a drag of his cigarette. “he might get confused, i think. wait until he at least starts growling and pissing in our shoes before referring to him as a villain.” 

louis looks down at the corgi/husky mix, who yawns and blinks slowly. “maybe you’re right. if i’m honest, i don’t have such high hopes for him learning a whole other name. niall can’t even teach him sit. they both just give up and nap.” 

zayn actually laughs at that, and then he looks back into the pub with a sort of dazed look on his face, but it’s a happy one. 

“there are people in there singing our songs.” he says, still with that same happy-dazed look. “as in, they know the words.” 

louis beams up at him from the bin lid. “i’m proud of you guys,” he says, warmly. “you deserve it.”

zayn looks down at him, sort of guiltily. “i’m not saying sorry,” he says. “for you know. whatever.” 

louis shrugs, kicking at the bin with his heels. “i don’t want you to. i enjoy our banter and obvious sexual tension far too much.” 

“cheeky fucker.” zayn smiles, shaking his head. 

louis grins, dipping his head. “so i’ve heard.” 

-

they all take anakin for a walk on a dog trail that’s mostly just a wet field. he trots along in front of them, his fur getting all wet and muddy, but he looks so happy. nick and niall are keeping a close eye on him, and at one point they even stop to try and teach him how to play fetch. 

anakin just looks at the stick and then back up to niall, without moving. 

“it’s possible we have the laziest dog in the world,” niall tells nick, when he moves to pick the stick up again. 

nick laughs. “he gets it from his parents.”

“fetch!” niall tries again, throwing the stick so it lands very close to where anakin is sitting. the puppy just noses it and turns his back to it. 

“that one took effort,” nick comments, sounding impressed. “our baby works to avoid more work. is this what normal people feel when their dog wins crufts?” 

“i’d imagine it would be,” niall smiles, picking up anakin. “if normal people’s dogs won crufts.” 

anakin wiggles around and stretches so that he can lick niall’s face. niall bursts out laughing and nick raises his eyebrows. “i think anakin’s got the right idea,” he muses. 

when they lean in for a kiss, taylor wolf whistles and claps. “louis,” she squeals. “film this!” 

“on the account of the fact i’m not a pervert,” louis laughs. “i’m refusing.” 

“that’s sad,” pouts taylor. “i was counting on you to film us.” 

she runs off to take care of anakin, slipping a little in the mud. the bottom of her summer dress is all dirty from where they’d jumped in puddles in a slightly flooded section of the path. 

zayn and louis look at each other and raise their eyebrows. 

“me and her?” louis asks, “or you and her?” 

zayn shrugs. “all three? she’s mentioned it once or twice.” 

-

“hi harry!” louis interrupts, shouting into the phone when nick is busy having a long and serious discussion with him about where to find high-quality dog clothes. “i’ve heard a lot about you!” 

nick sighs and hands the phone over to louis. “condemning anakin to a naked life,” he tuts, shaking his head. 

“have you now?” harry asks louis, once he’s stopped laughing. “i’ve heard a bit about you too, if i’m honest.” 

“all bad i hope,” louis smirks, winking at nick. nick sticks out his tongue and goes back to playing peek-a-boo with anakin. 

“oh, of course. liam thinks you sound the perfect hellraiser.” louis can hear harry’s smile from the other side of the line, and he looks out to the countryside speeding past the van. 

“i reckon he would. he sounds a bit boring on the radio.” he muses aloud, and then adds, “no offense,” in an overly light tone. 

harry giggles, and muffles it behind his hand. “hey,” he chides. “don’t speak bad about my boyfriend and partner in crime. liam payne is an upstanding citizen, unlike some.” 

“i’ll re-evaluate my opinion of him if he mentions us on your show again,” louis tries. 

“you drive a hard bargain, louis. i’ll see what i can do. why don’t you try doing your job and actually getting a youtube video up?” 

“cheeky!” louis laughs. “i’ll see what i can do.” 

-

niall actually does write a song about anakin’s tiny little legs, called bite my ankles. he practices it, under his breath, when they’re getting ready for a show. anakin is running about the stage, very excited. 

taylor stretches. she’s wearing one of zayn’s shirts because they haven’t got their clothes back from the laundrette they left them off in to get cleaned and then left with a note on their washing machine that said “sorry! :( we’ll be back in five minutes!”

“good luck tonight guys!” louis calls, whistling for anakin. “c’mon buddy. we gotta go get clean clothes! how exciting!” anakin rushes over to him and skids to a stop, falling on his face. “i’ve set up the tripod over there,” louis explains, slowly. “don’t move it. the camera has enough battery life and memory to run through the whole set.” 

they play bite my ankles for the first time to an audience. they seem to love it, and when they start up things i shouldn’t have eaten, people are definitely paying attention to them and taking videos on their phone. taylor makes sure to mention their twitter handle enough times that it passes into obnoxious, but nobody really minds. 

they get fourteen new followers within the hour, and most of them tweet about hats for unicorns and then there are _more_ followers, asking about an ep or a music video or questions like _would you rather have a giant pug or an army of them?_ the pictures from the animal themed shows are retweeted a lot. 

“thank you so much!” taylor shouts, once it’s over. “you have all been really great. love you lots!”

louis is waiting in the street for them, bags of clothes already back in the van and anakin is sniffing an old takeout carton, his little tail wagging. when he sees them, he yips happily and louis looks up. taylor and zayn are holding hands and laughing a lot, pulling each other down the street. 

“wait until you’re in the van, at least!” louis winks, but taylor stops walking and looks to zayn, who nods and shrugs, sort of in one motion. 

taylor runs back to where louis is standing, anakin’s lead looped around his wrist and his camera bag slung around his shoulder. she stops right in front of him and pulls him into a kiss and he brings his arm awkwardly around her waist. 

“would you like to come back to the van with us?” she asks, once they pull apart, and louis laughs.

“christ,” he says. the side of his mouth has got her pink lipstick smeared on it and his eyes are wide. “yes. yes. fuck yes.” 

“can we have our dog back?” nick asks, as they turn to leave. “just before you guys scar him for life.” 

louis hands niall anakin’s lead and his camera bag and then he and zayn and taylor have an actual race back to the van.  
-

nick and niall take anakin for a walk around the town. he wags his tail happily and looks into most of the shop windows. his new collar is a bright purple, and his id tags jingle when he moves. 

they find a pond, just outside the town, and let him patter around near the water. he dips a paw in and shakes it in surprise at the wetness. niall films him as he takes cautious steps into the shallow water and walks backwards out again, looking around to them. 

“i can’t believe tour is almost over,” niall says, after anakin has gotten bored of the water and is instead sleeping at their feet. “i’ll have to find a flat.” 

“you don’t?” nick asks, looking down at him in surprise. 

niall tries to skip a stone, but it doesn’t even make it to the edge of the water and just lies with all the other pebbles and rubbish. 

“nah,” he says. “you’ll have to take anakin. if your flat allows dogs, i guess. shit. we really didn’t think about this.”

“mm,” nick agrees. “and the poor baby can’t live in a van forever.” 

“neither can i, if i’m honest,” niall smiles. “my back is killing me.” 

there are two ducks further out on the water. they’re dirty looking, with their feathers rumpled and messy. nick and niall watch them feed for a while, their butts turning up to point in the air. one of them flaps their wings and the water splashes up around them. 

“taylor and zayn’s flat allows animals,” nick says, not looking at niall. “we could leave anakin there for a bit while we look for a flat?”

“together?” niall asks, loud enough that anakin lifts his head, ears pricked. 

nick shrugs. “if you’d like. i’d like it anyway, so.” 

niall nods, and laughs. “does this make us old?” he asks, once he’s done laughing. 

“well, we’re either old or we’re one of those couples who wear matching shirts and paint plates together, i think.” nick grimaces. “although a custom made dogbowl could be wicked.” 

-

louis lies on his back and looks at the roof of the van. he’s only got his boxers on, and taylor is sitting beside his feet in her bra and knickers. 

“nice mutant turtles boxers,” she smiles, fixing her hair into a plait. 

zayn is leaning against the van, smoking. his hair is a state - but he looks relaxed and happy and like he doesn’t really mind. 

nick and niall tap on the window, grinning. niall’s holding anakin and nick’s got the camera bag. taylor stretches and smiles at them. louis waves, lazily. 

niall opens the door and climbs into the drivers seat, letting anakin scramble into the back and curl up in their clothes. 

“good night?” nick asks, sitting beside niall. 

louis sits up and shrugs. “it was alright,” he says, sounding unimpressed. 

-

they have a travelling day, without any gigs. they buy value bags of sweets and crisps at spar, as well as dog treats for anakin and get ready for a day of song writing and sleeping and bathroom stops. 

“we need to release music on itunes,” taylor says, as she’s feeding anakin pieces of dog treats. “a single. let’s do it. it can’t be that hard. louis?” 

louis looks at her in the rearview mirror. “let me check my extensive knowledge of the music industry,” he deadpans. “okay, right. here it is, filed under “how the fuck should i know?” 

“we’ll google it,” zayn yawns. “stop off at a library somewhere and we’ll check things out.” 

“a music video could be good,” nick adds in. “like, one on youtube with a link to the itunes track underneath? very professional.”

“very kanye,” taylor swoons, mocking him. 

“shut it. it would be good. we need a concept or somthing, right louis?” 

louis shrugs. “it doesn’t matter. it could just be you guys being cute. the animal thing would be a good direction?” 

“spare me,” zayn mutters. “please.” 

“the zoo!” niall cheers. “let’s film us in a zoo! what’s cuter than us and animals?” 

“i think it should be for bite my ankles,” taylor decides. the others nod. “that’s it, then. let’s give this thing a proper go, boys!” 

-

they google “how to release music on itunes” and it’s actually a lot easier than they’d thought. taylor looks away from the screen back at all of them. 

then they email requesting permission to film in london zoo. the reply is pretty quick, coming in just as they’re shopping for dog hoodies and for anakin. there are terms and conditions, but basically, it’s a yes.

“we’ve got nothing to lose,” she says, and they shrug. she tweets that they’re working on a single and a video and that artwork would be nice, if anyone has any ideas. she tweets again, encouraging everyone to spread the word and keep an eye out for updates. 

_hats for unicorns mean business,_ she tweets. _watch your ass, adele._

-

london seems different, when they finally get back. their van rolls into the car park of taylor’s block of flats and they lift all their suitcases and clothes that have been thrown around out of it. it looks empty, sitting there, but they’re not sad enough to go back and sit in it. 

anakin is overwhelmed by the flat, and all the smells and sounds. taylor makes a beeline for her bed, and jumps on it, laughing hysterically. 

“a bed!” she cackles. “i’d forgotten what one of these was!”

zayn shoulders past louis and nick in the doorway. “i call the shower,” he mumbles, gruffly. “you guys get tea sorted.” 

they wait until he’s left the room to look at each other and then to taylor’s sofa and tv. nick texts harry to say they’re home and to ask him about babysitting anakin. 

niall is showing the dog around, telling him all the names for everything in the kitchen. anakin chews on an old newspaper he pulled off taylor’s coffee table and watches niall. 

louis plugs his video camera into his laptop and looks at all the footage he’s managed to record. there’s a show or two, anakin at the pond, and another hour and a half of random footage. fifteen minutes of it is taylor and niall singing about how nice it would be to have bacon for breakfast, with a dance routine. 

“harry says he can babysit tomorrow,” nick calls out to the flat. “i think we should go for it!” 

“we should check the weather report first!” taylor calls back, from her bedroom. she hasn’t moved since they got in, and it looks like she isn’t going to any time soon. 

“why wait?” niall shouts back to her. nick gives him a thumbs up. “the sooner we get this done, the better!”

“exactly! the fates will be with us, taylor swift!” 

-

when they get to the zoo, there’s a huge waiting line and there are ominous clouds in the sky. there’s still half an hour before it opens. louis pushes his way up through the line of waiting people to find somebody to talk to about their filming rights and their badges. 

“what an actual bastard,” zayn says, sort of in awe. a mother in front of him turns around sharply to glare.

louis wades back maybe ten minutes later, with a zoo worker. she looks tired with her lot in life already this morning, and they can sort of understand why. they’ve already had to deal with four different children crying and the older ones who just run into people and don’t even stop to say sorry. 

“this is them,” louis says, spreading his arms in a sweeping motion. “hats for unicorns!” 

she looks them up and down and then shrugs like _what can you do?_

“come with me,” she says, and they jump into life. taylor has to run back because she’d forgotten her picnic basket, so the others are left waiting in front of a line of tired mums and dads and over-excited children. she takes them into a tiny office beside the turnstiles and has them sign contracts. 

“here you are,” she says, handing over id badges with “FILMING PERMISSION” printed on them, in block capitals. “have a lovely day at the zoo. wait at the turnstiles, but not in line.” 

the zoo, when they finally get in, is huge. they’re all tired from the tour, but the adrenaline and excitement is pushing them through this. they huddle around a map and draw up their battle plan, trying to make sure that everyone will see the animals they want to see. 

“i want to see the llamas,” taylor decides, tapping their little picture on the map with her nail. zayn painted them for her, with unicorn nail art for the single. nick has his painted too, but he only has unicorn heads painted on a pink background. 

“we came all this way for llamas?” nick asks, frowning when taylor nods. “but they spit.” 

“well dodge it,” she sniffs. 

“they’ve got pygmy hippos!” niall grins. “we _have_ to see those.” 

“and the lovebirds,” says louis. “i think they’d look quite good behind you. symbolic. come on. let’s hop to it!” 

“i think you should be in it as well louis,” niall says, as they make their way to the gorilla kingdom, which seems to have more monkeys than gorillas. “one of us will film you with the monkeys and we’ll see if there’s anything you can use.” 

-

louis, niall, zayn and taylor make faces at the monkeys and sing “i want to be like you” to the gibbons. nick films it, occasionally turning the camera around to himself and fixing his quiff. once they’re at the gorillas, he films himself acting out a few tarzan lines and ignores the others who are listening to a little kid call them monkeys and glaring. 

on either side of the gorilla kingdom are birds, but niall doesn’t let them stop, shuddering at the sign for a bird safari. 

“let’s just skip ahead to the tigers,” he begs. “and then go from there to the llamas.” 

no matter how much they beg, zayn won’t pose by the tigers. taylor and nick do it for him, showing off their nail art. there’s a little girl sitting by the tigers who watches them the whole time, and niall sits down on the bench beside her and her mum. 

“tigers are awesome,” he grins, and she nods back. her mum smiles. “you know what’s even better?” he asks.

“flying tigers?” the little girl answers. her mum smiles again, but the fondness in this new smile is obvious. niall smiles back at her, and she seems to relax with him, a little. 

“well, slightly less better than that. those tiger teddy bears that i saw a couple of people with over by the gorilla kingdom. did some research for myself. they’re about twenty five quid.” 

the little girl’s mum starts to say something, but niall stuffs the notes into her hand. “don’t mention it,” he smiles. “we probably won’t have time to hit the gift shop anyway.” 

“we’re heading to the llamas now!” louis calls over. “come on nialler! we have to pass pigs on the way there!”

-

the llamas don’t spit at taylor, mostly because they stay at the other side of their enclosure. she sits down against a fence post and one of the alpacas sniffs her hair. she freezes comically, her eyes going wide. 

“it’s okay,” zayn soothes her, moving over to rub the alpaca on the nose. “she won’t hurt you.” 

taylor ducks out from under the animal and turns around to pet it. a couple of other alpacas and a few llamas wander over to her. she sits against the fence and dances in place, singing bite my ankles. the llamas and alpacas peer over the fence at her, and she waves up to them. 

niall is less lucky with the pygmy hippos. they’re eating by the water, and nothing can lure them over to the fence. niall and nick watch them for a bit, laughing whenever a hippo snorts. 

once the hippos have submerged themselves into the water, they wander back over to an open lawn. taylor sets out the picnic and louis interviews them one by one, with the lion enclosure in the background, for the _this is hats for unicorns_ youtube video.

“what do people need to know about hats for unicorns?” louis asks.

niall laughs. “we’re at a zoo and we forgot suncream. we sing silly songs about eating things and pugs.”

-

the making of the single and video and the choice of single artwork (they each draw a picture of a unicorn wearing hat and name them things like _cornelius_ and _xanadu_ ) and the subsequent releasing of the single is actually a blur to them. they expected it to feel like a big _moment_ , but it...didn’t. 

harry tweets a screenshot of himself buying the single and plays it on his show once a day. they start to climb up the itunes chart. their music video and the _this is hats for unicorns_ one start getting more and more hits, and it’s almost scarily easy to find gifs of them and zoo animals.

they slowly climb up the charts and they start to get more and more followers and subscribers and then there’s a point when they suddenly look at each other and think _we did it_.

there’s a sudden wave of people retweeting the first tweet, about zayn wondering when they’d become a real band. taylor looks at the computer screen and covers her mouth with her hands, but her eyes are a little misty.

harry texts them asking if they’ll come in for an interview. nick actually has to text him back and mention that they have another interview, and that harry will have to wait. 

_u twat._ harry texts back. _so proud of you!_

nick sends him back a happy face, and reminds him to keep an eye open for flats that allow animals for him and niall and anakin.

 _totes ship you_ harry replies.

-

the interview is with sugarscape, and it’s a lot earlier than any of them expected. zayn sits across from the interviewers and their camera with a coffee in his hand and his eyes closed. 

“we usually just leave him like that,” taylor explains. “sorry. he’s nocturnal.” 

“so,” one of the interviewers (sarah? one of them is sarah, and nick is fairly sure it’s this one) starts, turning to niall. “when you wrote _bite my ankles_ was it a representation of overcoming society’s expectations, or were you getting over a pretty bad breakup?”

“i was just making fun of my dog’s tiny legs,” niall shrugs.

thankfully, they laugh. people have started to like hats for unicorns and their general “fuck it” approach to their lives, and a scary amount of people even consider them actual threats in the music business. 

(probably) not-sarah asks about anakin and niall and nick both lean forward and start gushing about how he’s learning tricks. 

“no he’s not,” zayn sighs. “he’s the laziest little shit i’ve ever seen.”

“but he’s so cute!” nick argues, as if that can be counted as a trick. “i have photos of him on my phone, look!” 

“he’s adorable,” both of the interviewers gush. probably not-sarah looks like she might cry at the photo of him and taylor yawning together. 

at the end of the interview, they’re asked to give an exclusive performance. they play an acoustic version of pug off, and taylor and niall even commit to a simple dance routine.

“thank you so much,” taylor grins, as they’re leaving. “remember us?” 

“oh of course,” sarah promises. “very few people offer dance routines about pugs.”

“stylistic choice,” taylor nods. 

-

“we’ve got hats for unicorns!” harry announces, sounding very happy and proud. “plus louis tomlinson!”

“reckon that’s still hats for unicorns,” liam muses, winking at louis. louis winks back, suggestively enough that liam blushes. 

“now, hats for unicorns, you’ve just finished an actual tour,” harry says. “and you’ve had an actual charting single. did you ever see this coming?” 

“i did!” louis says, smugly. he’s sitting very close to harry, but harry still turns to give him his full attention. “that’s why i begged for my place on the van. keep your friends close, but people who have a chance at fame closer kids.” 

“strong motto,” liam comments. “your morals are sound.”

“i didn’t think we’d get anywhere,” nick butts in, before louis can take that comment and be a cheeky fucker on radio.

harry smiles. it’s slow and mischievous and right away nick knows he’s said something he shouldn’t have.

“i believe you,” harry agrees, reaching underneath the desk for something and pulling a piece of paper closer to him. “in fact, the last time you were on our show, you said - and i quote, nick grimshaw - “if we actually manage to get ourselves gigs anywhere on this godforsaken tour, let alone be better off because of it, i’ll dye my hair pink” and we are here today to see that you keep your promise.”

“you’re joking,” nick laughs, but harry finally manages to find the box of pink hair dye under his desk and sets it in front of him.

“you can go off to the bathroom and do that,” liam tells him. “we’ll finish the interview without you. a promise is a promise.”

nick grabs the box and mutters something close to _fuck you wankers_ but leaves the studio without a huge fuss.

“i’ll go with him!” taylor offers. “i think a pink dip dye could be nice.”

“we’ll tweet photos!” niall promises. “i’m sure he’ll look great.” 

“shall we play bite my ankles?” harry asks. 

**Author's Note:**

> [this is anakin](http://cdn.cutestpaw.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/l-Husky-Corgi-mix-is-the-cutest-thing-ever.jpg) and thank you if you're still here!


End file.
